


The Case of the Ordered Owlery

by moth2fic



Series: The Malfoy Connection [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Lewis (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 11:28:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6004272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moth2fic/pseuds/moth2fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is an unusual delivery in Oxford</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Case of the Ordered Owlery

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a Valentine's Day offering for the LJ com inspector_lewis. It lacks any criminal element or even any explicit sex but I have left the series warnings in place.  
> Thanks are due to my beta, Fictionwriter. Any remaining errors are my own.

 

Robbie wanted to swear.

 

James was home early and he should have known. After all, he had sent him off to interview some witness way out beyond the ring road and had expected a late return, but there were always fast interviews, people unavoidably unavailable, or a dearth of traffic.

 

James was home, and was arguing, politely but firmly, with a man in overalls standing by a white van outside the house. A van with no wording on it but clearly a working van, a contractor's van. And the man was arguing as politely but firmly back. Robbie swallowed the curses and headed over to the pair.

 

"Hi," said James, rather distractedly. "Oliver here is trying to tell me he has something to deliver and install but I think we know quite well that we have nothing on order. Tell him, Robbie. Oh," turning to Oliver, "this is my partner, Robbie Lewis. He'll tell you..."

 

"Well, no, he won't," said Oliver, looking straight at Robbie. "It's his name on the order, after all."

 

"You'd better come in," said Robbie, opening the door.

 

He kept fending off James' questions somehow and two hours later, with the help of a little magic (unobserved by James but noticed by Robbie) and a few banged thumbs with accompanying curses, the structure was fixed to the back wall, just outside the patio window of their new ground floor apartment.

 

"But what is it?" demanded James, hands covered in flour and oil as he readied their meal, but obviously dying of frustration.

 

Oliver looked at him. "I thought I made that clear," he said. "It's an owlery. A bespoke owlery, ordered from Oliver's Owleries by your partner. I'd have thought he'd have told you," he added, "since I got here, anyway, even if it was a surprise before."

 

"An owlery? But," said James, showing complete bewilderment, "we don't have an owl. Or any intention of getting one." He eyed the structure doubtfully. "Maybe we could get a canary, or a parrot."

 

"That's as may be," said Oliver, handing an invoice to Robbie who immediately handed over a wad of cash and then accepted a receipt. Oliver thanked him, and made his way out. James watched him with disbelief.

 

"Oliver's Owleries? So he makes them as well as fitting them? And he obviously knows what they're for so he must be..."

 

"...connected with the wizarding world, yes," said Robbie. "I got in touch with him through Auror Potter, though your cousin has helped, too."

 

"Helped? What with?" James' voice was rising to semi-hysteria. An empty owlery in their back garden. Some kind of joke? But April was still a long way off.

 

"This." Draco spoke from the kitchen doorway. "And yes, I apparated here but I kept this little fellow safe in my pocket and I honestly don't think he even noticed."

 

He stepped forward, hands cupping something round and, judging from his care, delicate. He opened his fingers to show a ball of feathers. The colours shaded from brown through grey to cream and near-white. Somewhere in the ball James and Robbie could see a hint of huge eyes and a fierce, if tiny, beak.

 

Draco held him out, apparently unsure whether to offer him to James or Robbie. The owl huffed and buried his face further in the feathers.

 

"He's a Little Owl," said Robbie. "We chose him specially. He won't be too noticeable round here. They hunt at dawn and dusk and they often sit around on fences and posts during the day. People will think he's wild, but of course he isn't, he's a messenger owl."

 

"Trained by Oliver's Owleries." Draco took up the explanation. "He wouldn't let us bring him till the owlery was fitted, of course, so he just contacted me from his van and here I am."

 

"He has a floo in his van?" James was quite clearly not making sense of any of this.

 

Draco's eyebrows rose. "No, a hands-free mobile phone," he said gently. Then he placed the owl on the table and dug around in his pocket for a treat. "I can get you some of these but Oliver has probably..."

 

"...left a packet in the owlery," said Robbie.

 

"He must have thought I was really stupid, but I didn't know." James sounded defensive.

 

"He knew it was a surprise. It was a surprise to him to find you at home so he just did the best he could."

 

"I thought he was a muggle. But if he wasn't, what was all that about with a white van and a hammer and so on? And cash?"

 

"He specialises in bespoke owleries for wizards who choose to live in muggle surroundings," said Draco. "So he's as much at home with white vans and banks as he is with apparating and Gringott's. Not all wizards use magic all the time, you know."

 

"So he's mine?" James put out a hand towards the ball of feathers, which obligingly hopped onto the back of his hand and explored his knuckles, perhaps hoping for more treats hidden in the creases.

 

"You don't imagine I'd find any use for a messenger owl?" Robbie smiled. "And none of our wizarding friends would want to keep an owl here in Oxford. So yes, he's yours."

 

"Does he have a name? And that tickles." The second sentence was directed at the owl, who looked up, and huffed again but allowed his face to remain mostly visible.

 

"They've been calling him Owl One, I'm afraid," said Draco. I think they thought you'd like the honour of naming him."

 

Owl One chose that moment to step off James' hand and skip across the table to a bowl of olives. A moment later and his face was a comical sight, a large olive speared on his beak and an expression of dreamy pleasure in his rolling eyes.

 

"Hmm," said James. "I suppose that settles it. Oliver Owl, trained by Oliver of Oliver's Owleries. No other option, really."

 

In a flurry of muted colour, Oliver Owl flew up to James' shoulder and investigated his right ear.

 

"I've brought you a kind of manual," said Draco, bringing a scroll from yet another pocket and enlarging it with a flick of his wand. "You haven't been used to owls so I thought you might need to be able to look things up. Though he'll be well trained, considering where we got him."

 

Oliver Owl huffed.

 

James thanked Draco, bemusement still evident, and then looked at Robbie.

 

"So you got me an owl. But I said I didn't need one."

 

"Need, no. But you're a wizard. You should have something like this. A magical creature. I wanted you to have him."

 

That was the moment Monty chose to come to see whether dinner was ready. There was a short shocked stand-off then Monty stalked back into the living room and Oliver Owl resumed his attentions to James' ear.

 

"They'll get on," said Draco. "They're both predators and they'll always be rivals, but not enemies. Cats are half way magical in any case." A soft miaow from the other room suggested Monty had heard him.

 

"And he'll want to live outside, with his safe perch and his water and his view of the garden," added Robbie. "They probably won't interact much at all."

 

"Who am I going to send messages to?" James was trying to catch up.

 

"Me?" said Draco.

 

"I thought you preferred your mobile phone," said James, "but I suppose Harry or Ron might like to be owled from time to time."

 

"I'm sure they would," said Robbie. "Harry thought it was a wonderful idea. That's why he put me in touch with Oliver's Owleries, and then Oliver suggested Draco as the owl deliverer when he realised who you were."

 

"But why now?" James was still struggling. "I mean, it isn't Christmas, or my birthday, or anything."

 

Robbie looked at the calendar on the kitchen wall. It was one of those ones that came with a cookery magazine, with a recipe for each month and a lot of space for appointments and shopping lists. James followed his glance and saw the date.

 

"Valentine's Day," he whispered. "You got me an owl for Valentine's Day."

 

Draco had the sense to apparate away without fuss, and Oliver Owl, realising that his new friend was about to be somewhat preoccupied, made a precipitate departure to the newly fitted bespoke ordered owlery which he found just to his liking.

 


End file.
